


Annabelle Groff and the Mysterious Origins of Uncle Zak

by goddess_of_time_and_magic



Category: Ghost Adventures (TV)
Genre: Annabelle Groff - Freeform, Annabelle takes things into her own hands, Childhood, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Flirting, Gracie - Freeform, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Memories, Past, Return, beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11533404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddess_of_time_and_magic/pseuds/goddess_of_time_and_magic
Summary: Annabelle was six years old when she asked her father about the mysterious, dark-haired man in her memories, but when her father, a big figure in the paranormal world, simply told her not to ask him again, she kept her mouth shut and forgot about the man. Now, Annabelle is eighteen years old and her best friend in school shows her the TV show her father was in when he was in his twenties. She sees the dark-haired man again. So, she dares to ask her father and takes his destiny into her hands. (TWO SHOT)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is based off a conversation I had with Mina La Voisin.  
> Annabelle was born in 2010 and Nick left GAC in 2014. She would have been four when it all happened. Some things have been exaggerated for the sake of the story plot.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157063067@N06/35911648401/in/dateposted-public/)

LINK TO ORIGINAL TWITTER POST-->https://twitter.com/Zak_Bagans/status/226915187041636352?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fmygacuniverse.wordpress.com%2F2012%2F07%2F22%2Ftoo-sweet-zak-introduced-nicks-daughter-anabelle-to-gracie%2F

 

* * *

 

_Boston 2016_

A small girl, with hair the same color as her mother and brown eyes the same shade as her father, sat on the floor in her bedroom. Her hands clutched at her dolls, a mismatch of Barbie and Transformers. Standing up on her six year-old legs, she made her way over to her toy chest, which her mother just recently cleaned out and organized. As her brown eyes peered into the vast of childhood imagination, she looked down at one particular toy.

 It was a small stuffed dog, the fur a dull white and black from age. The eyes, glazed with no life, were painted over with white iris. She reached for it, her fingertips running through the fur, and brought the toy out from the chest. She sat down again, in the way that children did when their attention was else where, and simply stared at the creature.

A memory, which she didn't know she had, appeared in her mind and it played out like a movie.

_The sand was course beneath her two year-old flesh, but she was absolutely fascinated by the crunching sound it made as her feet walked across it. Suddenly, a cool ocean wave crashed onto the shore, her small feet swallowed by the white water. Looking down at her feet, the small girl began to cry as the sand collapsed beneath them. She wanted the sand back under her feet, course and weird sounding._

_"_ _Oh, Annabelle," her fathers soft voice reached her ears and she looked at him, her brown eyes watery. Her father came to kneel down next to her, their same brown eyes staring at one another, "What's the matter?"_

_Through her tears and sniffles, "I wan' tha san' to stay!"_

_Her father chuckled and reached out to touch her blonde curls, "You can't make everything stay, Annabelle, no matter how much you wish it."_

_The girl pouted, "But I wan' it to stay!"_

_The man smiled softly and nodded, "Alright, how about you make a sandcastle? That should make the sand stay!"_

_Annabelle burst out into cheerful laughter; her few teeth sticking out, and dimples formed on her cheeks. Her father was practically gushing over how adorable his daughter looked when she laughed. Then, off she went further along the beach to find a new spot to set up her castle._

_A loud bark interrupted her concentration of the second tower and she looked back at her father. They were no longer the only figures on the beach. A dog, black and white and slim, raced across the sand at her father, barking and wagging its tail madly. A tall figure, about the same height as her father, walked behind the dog dressed in black from head to toe. He looked like some modern figure of death with the way he walked across the sand so calmly and so filled with determination._

_Annabelle watched her father crouch down to meet the dog and his face was covered in saliva as the dog licked him. The creature then proceeded to jump her father causing the man to fall back onto his butt and bombard him with more licks to his rough face. The dark figure simply chuckled down at the sight. She watched her father say something, the words she was unsure of, and then the dark figure responded with only more laughter. At last, the dark figure made a sharp whistle and called to the dog who immediately went to her masters side._

_Annabelle father stood up and shifted closer to the dark figure. The two embraced, their long arms wrapping around one another, and stepped back. She watched as the dark figure looked in her direction, but she couldn't see anything define about him since he was still far away. He looked back at her father and they shared a quick chat before her father was walking over to her, the dog and dark figure in tow._

_As the dark figure got closer, his features became more detailed and the first thing she noticed was his eyes. They were so blue and so old, like they had seen and felt the world. But, beneath the color, she could see the odd and troubled soul that he was. There was something up with this death looking figure._

_"_ _Annabelle?" Her father called to her and she met his gaze, "I want you to meet an old friend of mine," and he turned to the dark figure, "This is Zak."_

_The dark figure, who she now had a name for, came down to her level with a soft smile, "Hi, Annabelle. Your father has told me much about you."_

_She giggled and her brown gaze found the dog sniffing at her feet, "Doggie!" She exclaimed and looked back up at Zak, remembering her manners, "Can I touch the doggie?"_

_Zak nodded and grasped his dog by the collar to control her, knowing she was very hyper and could accidentally injure Annabelle, "Her name's Gracie."_

_Annabelle's fingers slid through the soft black and white fur with ease and Gracie wiggled in Zak's grasp as she tried to jump the young girl. Her tongue however made its mark and covered the little girls arm in saliva in seconds. She giggled more at the feeling._

_"_ _So, what are you making, Annabelle?" Zak asked in a kind voice._

_Annabelle turned to her creation and held up her pink pail, "Sandcastle!"_

_Zak's face turned to surprise, though it was the tone that most adults gave children, "Wow! It's impressive! Did you have help or did you do it all by yourself?"_

_Annabelle squealed, "Daddy told me to do it, but I made by myself!" She exclaimed proudly._

_Zak turned to look at her father, a glint in his eyes, "Did Daddy now?"_

_Turning a blind eye to the looks Zak was giving her father, she nodded, "Daddy is smart and helped me!"_

_"_ _Your dad is smart."_

_Suddenly, her father cleared his threat and touched her blonde head, "Hey, Annabelle?" She looked up at him with those large brown eyes of hers, "Uncle Zak and I will be over by our stuff. Don't wander too far."_

_"_ _I'll stay put and play castle!" She announced._

_Her father laughed, "Okay, my little princess," and gently gave the top of her head a kiss. She giggled and went back to building her sandcastle as her father and Zak went back to their things. What she didn't notice, for she was too young, was how close her father and the dark figure sat together beneath the umbrella, Zak's dog basking beneath the beach sun._

 Six year-old Annabelle puzzled over the dog in her hand, which looked so similar to the dog she had seen with the dark figure. That dark figure, however, held a grasp on her mind. She couldn't remember the figures name, but she remembered that he and her father were close and was, henceforth, in her mind, close to her family. She wondered what happened to him.

 Since she was so curious at her age, Annabelle got up off her floor and exited her room. She liked her house, though at night it felt different and she got scared of the noises that went bump in the night. She liked how it felt like home and was warm and kind and everything that went against what it felt like at night.

Quietly, she slipped down the long hallway to the Office, as her parents called it. Her father usually hung out in there during the day, working on his computer on his TV show, a show that he had told her was about ghosts. Little four year-old her, with her mind wrapped in cartoon TV shows, responded, " _Like Scooby-Doo?"_ Her father burst into uncontrollable laughter and said to her, _"_ _Yes, a little like Scooby-Doo."_

Knocking, as she was told to do, she waiting outside the door for her father, she still had the dog clutched in her hand. At last, her father called out that she could enter and she pushed the door open. Her father sat in his chair, back bent over his laptop as he paired clips together and overlaid it with audio, a daunting task. He turned around to look at her.

Her father had aged since that memory at the beach. Instead of his small goatee on the tip of his chin, he had a thin layer of hair around his chin. Instead of tanned skin from days spent in the desert, he looked pale and sickly. Instead of that joyful smile she remembered in her memory that he had, his smile looked forced and she rarely ever saw a true smile on his face. He had one of those true smiles on now.

"Annabelle! What's the matter?" Nick Groff's parental soul took over.

"Daddy," she walked toward him, the stuffed dog motioned toward him. His brown eyes connected with it and his smile disappeared, "What happened to the black person with the black and white dog like this?"

"Gone," it was all her father said and he turned back around to his computer.

Annabelle, though, was curious and combine that with her stubborn nature, she was dangerous, "Daddy, what happened to that man? Why does he not come over anymore?"

Nick Groff turned to his daughter, his brown eyes filled with conflicting emotions, "He is no one, Annabelle. Don't speak of him, again, do you understand?"

She froze in her spot. It was a rarity when her father spoke to her in that tone and she knew better than to ask again. With a small nod, she left her father alone to his memories and his work, though to him, they were the same thing.

 

[~][~][~][~][~][~][~][~]

_Boston 2028_

 

 **"** **OMG! Annabelle! Call me!"** the text came through on her phone as soon as she walked into her high school, the vibration almost making her trip and _in front_ of one of the hottest boys in her school! She was going to kill her best friend.

 **"** **Why???"** she responded quickly after collecting herself.

 **"** **I found something,"** her best friend texted back, **"** **CALL ME!!!!!!!"** that was the thing with her best friend. When it came to the present and getting what she wanted, a single exclamation point did not emphasize it enough.

Quickly making her way to her locker and putting her back pack in the small, metal cabinet, she pulled her phone back out and hit the call button on her phone. Her best friend picked it up immediately.

"YOOOOO!" She cried through the phone and Annabelle had to pull the phone away from her ear. Once she no longer heard the voice, she brought it back up to her ear.

"What? Shouldn't you be sick in bed?"

"Have you heard of _Ghost Adventures_?" Her best friend ignored the second question.

To Annabelle it sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it, "No."

"Go onto YouTube and look it up, right now," her best friend put emphasis on the next part, "And then _CALL me!"_

"Okay, okay, okay," Annabelle responded, "I will. Bye!"

"Bye!" And then they hung up.

Annabelle looked at the time quickly before deciding she had time before the last bell rang. She got onto YouTube with ease and types the words in the search bar. Thousands of videos appeared and it seemed that it was an old TV show from before she was born. She clicked on one of the promos--season one it appeared. As the video rolled across her small screen, her mind was torn between the fact that her _father_ was in it and the fact that the mysterious dark figure from her oldest memories that her father forbade her to talk about was standing beside him with another man, whose head was bald. Quickly, she learned that the dark figure that haunted her memories name was Zak Bagans, but calling him that felt wrong.

"No," she spoke to the promo, "That's Uncle Zak," she wasn't even sure how that name appeared in her mind, but it fit the dark figure better in her mind.

Even as the promo ended, Annabelle stood at her locker, frozen completely. How could her father keep this from her? How could he keep from her the fact that he had another TV show before _Paranormal Lockdown_? How could he keep from her the fact that he had two other friends, best friends even, of which he never spoke to either of them? How could one person keep that part of their life silent from the rest of the world?

Her mind whirled as she thought about the promo and, before she knew it, she was watching an Aaron's Vlog. She quickly learned who was who in the video and who the bald man was, Aaron Goodwin--another name that didn't sound right to her, but she couldn't remember him like the dark figure. But, as she watched the small segments, she became even more puzzled as to who her father _really_ was. This man she was watching was not her father, at least not the father she knew. This man was reckless, adventurous, daunting, and witty. This man was kind and knowing and loved, so loved. She could see the love her father and Uncle Zak had for one another. What had happened?

Annabelle's best friend, suddenly, called her again, interrupting Annabelle in the middle of another Aaron's Vlog--one that was recorded after her father was gone and she could see that not only the Crew, but Uncle Zak was distrust over something (Annabelle would bet her best kept secrets that it was because of her father). With a sigh, Annabelle brought the phone up to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Have you watched it?" The voice came over the phone with a screechy tone.

"Yes," was all Annabelle said and, as her best friend was starting to fire off questions at a million miles per hour, a plan formed in her mind.

"I can't believe he never-," Annabelle interrupted her best friend.

"Does your father still have emergency cash in his Bible?"

Her best friend was frozen on the other end and then she spoke in a careful voice, "Yea. Why?"

Annabelle was out the door of her high school and heading toward her car already when she explained, "I need a two way plane ticket to Las Vegas."

 

[~][~][~][~][~][~][~][~]

 

_"A_ _nkle Zak!"_

_Her two year-old voice screeched as she saw the older man and her father walk through the door of their house. She did notice how Uncle Zak had dropped his arm from her father's waist, but she was two and did not understand what she was seeing. All she cared about was getting one of Uncle Zak's infamous hugs where he lifted her up into the air so she was flying._

_As she ran toward him, he picked her up and did exactly as she hoped for. Her blonde curls bounced as she went flying through the air and was surrounded, seconds later, by Uncle Zak's warm and large arms._

_"_ _Ankle Zak!"_

_He and her father laughed, "Hey, Annabelle! How's my favorite girl?"_

_She only giggled and screamed, "Ankle Zak!"_

_Uncle Zak placed her back down on the floor as her father stepped forward toward her, "Do I get a hug, Annabelle?"_

_She shook her head and, as Uncle Zak laughed, her father pouted. At this, she rushed toward him with a big smile, dimples bright in her cheeks, and wrapped her arms around her father, who raised her off the ground. She even gave him a kiss on his cheek, his goatee rough beneath her youthful flesh._

_"_ _Oh, Annabelle, I brought you a gift!"_

_At Uncle Zak's voice, Annabelle turned in her father's arms so she rested on his hip. Her brown eyes narrowed in on the object within Uncle Zak's hands. He pushed it toward her and her smile widened when she saw that it was a small stuffed animal, a dog particularly. She grabbed it and launched herself at Uncle Zak. Her father grappled for her and tightened his grasp on her legs as she wrapped her arms around Uncle Zak's neck. Annabelle's body formed a bridge between the two of them._

_"_ _Thank you, Ankle Zak!" She exclaimed in his ear._

_He laughed, "Your welcome."_

_She let go of him and settled back into her fathers arms; she studied the small creature and then suddenly exclaimed, interrupting the conversation the two men were having, "Gracie!"_

_Uncle Zak looked at her with a knowing smile, "I thought you might like to have your own dog."_

_She squealed and brought the creature up to her chest, the fur was as soft as Uncle Zak's dog. Her father laughed and she could feel the vibrations shoot through his chest and through her body, a rumble that soothed her._

_"_ _Annabelle?"_

_She looked up at her father._

_"_ _Please fasten your seatbelt. We are about to land."_

"Please fasten your seatbelt."

With a jolt, Annabelle opened her brown eyes, her heart beating so quickly. She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep. Sitting up better in her seat, she ignored the looks the person sitting next to her was giving her and worried about getting her seatbelt on. As she did so, she felt the airplane begin its decent, her stomach falling to her feet. Annabelle wasn't one for airplanes; she hated heights.

In about ten minutes, the plane had docked at a gate and she was walking out the door to one of the carousels. As she waited at the silver machine that would spew out her luggage, her hand drifted to the pocket of her jacket and found the sticky note attached to her phone. Annabelle pulled it out and stared at it. She read it again and again. In her handwriting was an address, an address she had pulled from her father's box of records. To say she was surprised when she noticed a familiar name scribbled across several pieces of those papers was an understatement.

Finally, the carousel began to move and she was one of the lucky few that got their luggage first. She grabbed the duffle bag and made a beeline for the row of yellow taxis that stood outside the airport, waiting for customers. Annabelle found one that was free and slid into it. Giving the drivers a different but close address to her original, they were off and Annabelle found her mind whirling. Did she make a wrong decision?

Digging into her pocket, she grabbed her phone and turned it on. Waiting a couple seconds later, her phone began to buzz and ding as she was bombarded with texts from her best friend and her parents. Annabelle had instructed that her best friend was to tell her mother that she was out with another friend and would be staying over, but it seemed that her mother did not believe her and had her father texting her as well. She found that part odd because he was away with Aunt Katrina, his partner in his TV show, filming another episode somewhere in Connecticut and he rarely ever texted during the show. With a sigh, she wrote careful messages to each of the people.

To her best friend, she wrote: " **I am in Vegas. Did I make the right choice?"**

To her mother, she wrote: " **I am fine mom don't worry. I am doing something important for dad. I'm getting Uncle Zak. I will be back. Luv u <3"**

To her father, she wrote: " **Don't worry dad. I am in Vegas. I am going to go see him. Yes, you know who I am speaking about. I remember him dad still and I miss the way you two were together. Don't ask where I got the money. Don't ask how I got here. Don't ask why I'm skipping school. Just know that this is for you and I love you."**

And with that, that taxi slowed down and she put her phone on silence back into her pocket. She looked out at the surrounding area and saw she was in a neighborhood, the houses orange and hidden by driveways and greenery. Annabelle's brown eyes found the right number on the sticky note in her pocket on the mail box outside one of the driveways.

Quickly, she paid the taxi driver and grabbed her things. The taxi sped off behind her, swallowing Annabelle in a cloud of tan smoke. She coughed, her New England lungs not prepared for the high desert dust. As her lungs stopped itching, she stared at the numbers on the gate, which stood wide open, and her mind grew even more conflicted. What was she going to say? Would he even still remember her after all these years? Did he even still want to return to her father? She _was_ not thinking when she thought about coming out here for she did not know the whole story. But, she was stubborn and did not give up easily and acted even with little information. With a sigh, Annabelle knew what she had to do and she took a step forward.

The driveway was long and the cobble stones rough and bumpy under her thin-soled sneakers. However, she persisted and came to the front door of a lavish house. Annabelle was nervous as she raised her hand to knock on the door and she felt her heart rise to her throat when she heard the knock echo across the area.

Several seconds pass and the door opened to reveal a very tired looking man. His hair was tossed on his head and his clothes did not look any better. He wore a combination of black sweats and a black shirt, but his feet were bare. She stared into his blue eyes, finding them to be the same old shade of sapphire blue that she remembered. As she stared at him, he stared at her and as he stared at her, she stared at him.

Her heart dropped in her throat back to its place in her chest where it hammered uncontrollably. Her brown eyes began to water as she realized she was finally looking at him. All she wanted to do was run into his arms, but she had to introduce herself to him... because that would be weird since he didn't appear to recognize her.

"Hi-," she trailed and tried to calm herself down, "I'm-."

"Annabelle," he spoke her name so softly and when she heard it, she ran into his arms which still felt the same.

"Uncle Zak."

 

[~][~][~][~][~][~][~][~]

 

"What are you doing here?" Zak asked as he made his way from his kitchen, a cold soda in his hands, to the sofa.

She thanked him as she took the soda from his hands and he settled down in the spot next to her. She took a sip of it, the bubbles fizzling down her throat and making her sigh, "It's a long story," she responded and look up into his eyes.

"Do your parents know you're here?" He asked, "I'd rather not get in trouble with them-," the way he spoke that sentence was as if he were going to say 'again,' "You didn't run away, Annabelle, did you?"

She laughed and shook her head, "No. They know I'm here," and as she took another sip of her soda, she mumbled over the lip, "They found out about five minutes ago."

"What?" Zak exclaimed as he heard it and, as if the last sixteen years of absence never happened, he slipped into his 'Uncle Zak' protective mode, "Annabelle, you didn't?"

"I needed to see you, Uncle Zak!" She reasoned with him, placing the soda on the glass coffee table, "I wanted to see you."

"I'm glad you _are_ here, Annabelle," he smiled softly, "But, I don't understand why. You should have forgotten me. You were so young when I was still your Uncle."

"You _still_ are my Uncle Zak," she replied.

Zak scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "Not according to your father."

"What happened, Uncle Zak?" Annabelle asked, "You and Dad were _so_ close."

A nostalgic smile formed on his face, "Yeah, we were," and the smile faded as he came back to the present, "But, some things do not last forever."

"What happened?"

Zak turned to look at her- ocean connecting with cognac, "You have his eyes, you know," he was avoiding the question and Annabelle knew that, but she allowed him to, "Brown like tree bark after a rain storm in Ireland. Brown like the stones that supported Vlad's Castle. Brown like the wood of the bar at Moon River," Annabelle noticed his eyes grow distant as he was loss in nostalgia again, "Do you really want to know what happened, Annabelle? Is that why you're here?" His voice grew angry though and he stood up, "Why couldn't you just ask your father?" He turned to her, "Why do you want to know?"

She stood up and reached out to touching his arm, "Because I remember the two of you and how _happy_ you were. I've remembered you since I was six when I found the stuffed animal you got me that looked like Gracie. I asked Dad about you, but he told me to never ask about you again. I decided to take my life into my own hands."

"Your father was right," Zak replied, though there was a sad undertone to his voice, "You shouldn't be here. What will he think of you being here with me? Me?" His voice grew angry again, "Of all the fucking people in the world, me?"

"Why would he freak out with me being here?"

"No," he backed away from where he was going and gave a horrible sigh, "I'm not going tell you anything."

"Uncle Zak-."

"No! Don't Uncle Zak me," he growled at Annabelle, "You need to go. Go back to him. Go back to his wife," he turned around and began to walk towards some other area of his mansion, "Go back to his perfect life."

If Annabelle was a stronger woman, she would have asked what he meant by all of that, but she felt like the wind was snapped out of her. All she could do was walk toward the door. This was all not what she had hoped for.

 

[~][~][~][~][~][~][~][~]

 

"Dad," Annabelle cried into the phone, her hiccups and tears loud in the older man's ears, "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh," her father cooed, "It's alright."

"I'm so sorry. I should have just stayed away," she cried, "I should have listened to you."

 "Annabelle," her father spoke softly, "It's alright. He does that to the people he loves."

"What-?"

Her father then quickly covered up his 'mishap,' "I want you stay put, Annabelle. I'm coming to get you."

"You're here?"

"Yes. As soon as you texted me, I knew what you were doing," Annabelle gave a frustrated sigh, which her father counteracted with, "You're my daughter, Annabelle. I know you."

"Dad!" She laughed and he did too.

"I'm almost there. I'll call you when I turn on the road."

"Alright. I'm sorry again, dad," Annabelle whimpered.

"It's alright. It's alright. It's alright," her father repeated, "See you in a bit!" And they hung up, but Annabelle's mind began to whirl. She turned to look back at the house. Her mind was made up--her Uncle had a few choice words heading his way.

 


	2. CHAPTER TWO

 

* * *

Nick Groff drove the route with ease. After all, he did know it like the back of his hand. Even after all these years, he would always know how to get to Zak Bagans' house. He wouldn't admit it, but he would always know how to get there.

As he got closer to the man he knew for most of his life, his mind thought about his daughter. Annabelle had her mother's looks and his brains, but there was that stubborn and persistent streak in her that neither of her parents had to that extent. Nick knew from the moment she first started showing it who she got it from and he never realized how influenced she was by Zak Bagans.

That man had wiggled his way into Nick's family and made a dent in it. Whether it was conscious or not, Zak Bagans had become a part of Nick's family. But, that was not the only thing Zak wormed his way into.

Nick arrived at the sprawling, million dollar house and his heart was beating so quickly in his chest. Annabelle stood at the door, cheeks carved with dry tears, and her arms wrapped around herself. Pulling up behind one of Zak's many Lamborghini's, he put the rental car in park. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the house, though.

What did the man look like after all these years? What was the inside of the house like? Did his bed and sofa and kitchen counter tops still feel the same beneath Nick's skin? Was his breaths and moans still echoing in that soft bed Nick could spend the rest of his life in? He really shouldn't be thinking these thoughts, but no one was here to stop them and make him feel differently.

Annabelle came up to the car, but she didn't appear to make a beeline for the front door seat. She leaned in through the open window, "I'm going to say goodbye to him before we leave."

"Is that really a good idea?" Nick tried to be the voice of reason for his daughter.

"Yes," she nodded, "This is for my sake and not yours," little did he know that her mischievous stripe was working and she was lying through her teeth.

He nodded and turned the engine off. As he did so, Annabelle turned on the ball of her foot and disappeared back into the house. Nick made sure that he didn't look at the figure which opened the door for her and instead found his brown eyes connecting with a magpie dancing across the shrub branches, staring at him. As he watches it, his mind drifts between the bars he strategically placed around his past memories and into a particular cell.

_The hotel air was calm and cool; the sheets were soft and the pillows like long forgotten dreams. Nick lay on one side of the bed and had not moved from his position since that morning, unblinking and staring at the wall that separated the beds and the bathroom. He had heard the hotel door open and close several times and footsteps move toward the bed, but then they retraced their steps and went back out the door. He simply stared at the wall, losing himself within the floral wallpaper._

_It was around dinner time that he heard the door open again and the soft footsteps of Zak resounded in his ears. He knew them by heart now. But, unlike the others where they just stopped at his bed and turned around, Zak stayed. Nick tore his gaze from his spot on the wall and glanced behind him from the corner of his eye. He could make out the image of Zak's body, but there was nothing defined about it in his peripheral vision. Nick watched as Zak reached out to touch Nick's shoulder and, when his fingertips danced across his left shoulder blade, he had to resist the urge to lean back into the older mans touch._

_It had only been around three months now that Nick realized he had feelings that extended beyond friendship toward Zak and each day felt like a week in hell. With each touch and each glance that Nick received, it meant another sleepless night of deciphering the meaning behind it. What were Zak's secrets behind those blue eyes of his?_

_"_ _Nick?" Zak called out, but Nick remains silent and motionless. Zak called out again, "Nick? Are you alright?"_

No _, he wanted to say,_ Not without you. Not without my sanity.

_It was silent again for a moment and Nick thought he left, but the bed shifted behind him and he felt someone sit down next to him. Nick dared not move, "Nick? Can you look at me" He stayed where he was. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to feel anymore. Not after Moon River the previous night. The incident was shortened on TV so it looked like a partial possession, but it was in face a full possession and he was now number two on the GA Team to be possessed--the first was Zak at Bobby Mackie's. God, he hated that night even as Zak's best friend then, without the feelings._

_"_ _Nick," Zak whined and grabbed Nick forcefully, "Enough of this silence and talk to me," Nick swallowed the lump of surprise in his throats at the angry tone and how forceful Zak was._

_Zak had caused Nick to turn on his other side and face him, their noses inches apart. Nick could make out the flakes of deep sapphire within the older man's eyes and the rows of trimmed hair above his upper lips that were slowly becoming a mustache. His breath hitched as he watched Zak's bottom lip tremble for a small second. Nick connected their eyes again and he could see the silent pleading within them._

Open up _, they cried,_ Let me see your demons. I'm sure they are the same as mine.

_In that moment, Nick spoke his first word in a day, "Zak."_

_The pain and longing in his voice was obvious to both men and Zak reached out to him, fingers curling around the younger man's nape. Nick closed the distance between them. Their lips brushed against one another's slowly at first for it was experimental and taste testing. He couldn't wrap his mind around what he was doing and feeling. Was this even real?_

_Nick's question was answered as Zak's lips grew rough against his own and the younger man felt the slight sting of Zak's teeth nipping at his bottom lip. That pain sent a howl through his veins and he allowed the older man's tongue to slip between their lips and into the cavern of Nick's mouth. Nick could feel his soul singing in his chest._

 Pulling himself from the memory of their first kiss, Nick Groff began to cry. A tear traced down his right cheek and within it was all the feelings he had suppressed over the years after their fight. Nick would be called a liar now if he said he no longer loved Zak Bagans.

Glancing down at the clock in his car _,_ he noted that Annabelle had been gone for ten minutes. This was too long for just a simple goodbye. Nick knew he had to go up to the entrance, but he just could not bring himself to open the car door.

With a horrid sigh, Nick opened up the car door and stepped out onto the driveway brick for the first time in many, many, _many_ long years. The desert air crashed into his face, drying his tear, and made him realize what he had been missing--the long Lockdown nights spent in the desert. Ignoring it all, he walked up the pathway to the entrance. Staring at the door, he thought about turning back around, but his body betrayed him and his hand raised to knock on the door.

Annabelle had been the one to open the door, which he found surprising and a relief.

"Annabelle, we need-."

Nick paused though for his daughter had stepped to the side to reveal the large living room. The first thing he notices, and not the unchanged décor, and will ever notice walking into a room, is Zak. He stood tall in the room and just as well-fit and chiseled-handsome as the last time Nick saw him.

"Oh," Nick is the first to speak and the sound his mouth makes echoes across the house.

Nick continues to stare at Zak; a flood of memories crosses his vision. He sees grappling hands, hasten kisses, broken promises, 'I love you's' in the middle of the night, cheeks flushed with laughter, and soft smiles of affection. Desperately, he wishes to reverse everything and go back to those days.

Zak steps forward toward him, hands shaking slightly, "Nick, I-."

They continue to stare at one another as if they are not quite sure if the other will simply disappear. Annabelle breaks the spell and steps between them, a confident and sneaky smile on her face, "I'm going to step outside and call Mom and when I come back, I want you two to be talk to each other more than this!" She made a quick beeline to the exit, but Nick raced after her.

"Annabelle!" He hissed through his teeth, grasping his daughter by her arm. She stopped in the threshold between the door and the driveway, "Wait! We are leaving!"

She twisted in him with a snarl that was a mirror to her mothers, "No, Dad. You are going back in there! You need this. You need to be yourself, the man I saw on TV, and not the man I see before me. Uncle Zak made you feel that and I know that he is the same way with you," Nick's eyes widened at the confession.

"Annabelle, I can't," he said, Your mother and I are married and...and...we still love each other."

Annabelle smirked, "No, you both do not. It's not love of a married couple when you two sleep in different beds and refuse to talk to each other in the morning," Nick was silent at her words for they were true and she seemed to realize this for she chuckled, "Now, go back in there, Dad, before Uncle Zak loses himself to thoughts of you leaving again for good."

Nick smiled and cupped the back of her head, bringing it closer to him, "God, I love you," and kissed the top of her head.

She smiled, "I love you, too."

Annabelle watched Nick walk back into the house, closing the door behind him. Her smile widened and she took her phone out of her pocket. Looking down at the phone, she saw her mother had responded to her text, about trying to get Uncle Zak and her father back together, with only the word: **Good.**


End file.
